


claustrophobia

by softkeiiths (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Claustrophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Kinda, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, also keiths dad is creepy as fuck i would fight him no questions asked, i wanted keith angst and there's literally none so i became the change i wanted to see in the world, klangst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 11:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11508834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/softkeiiths
Summary: "Please, Keith,please. You gotta be quiet. You gotta be quiet just for a little bit, okay?” his dad said with pleading eyes, and Keith immediately stopped his whining and squirming. “Your dad’s gonna deal with the bad people but you just have to make sure they don’t see or hear you. No matter what they say, don’t let them trick you into talking or coming out. Do you understand Keith? Keep quiet. Or else.”He pulled his hand away from Keith’s mouth and smiled when Keith replaced it with his own and nodded his head.“That’s my boy.”





	claustrophobia

**Author's Note:**

> keith angst bc no one else is gonna do it so i guess i fucking have to

“Dad?”

Keith’s small voice wavered as he looked up at his dad who was moving the sheets that were hanging from the windows to see outside. His dad’s furrowed eyebrows and scowl let him know that something was wrong, but he didn’t know what it was.

“Dad?” he asked again, concerned, tugging at his shirt lightly. His dad turned around quickly, startling Keith, and then knelt down to his height, putting his big hands on Keith’s shoulders and speaking to him in a rushed voice.

“Keith, hey, let’s play a little game,” he said in a whisper, smiling at Keith who stared at him with wide eyes. “Here’s what we’re gonna do, son. I need you to hide under the couch here and be very very quiet. Quiet just like a mouse, okay? Do you understand?”

“Dad what -” Keith started, confused, but then there was a hand over his mouth and a voice tickling his ear.

“We gotta be quiet Keith, we gotta be quiet,” his dad said softly, hand still over Keith’s mouth. “There’s some bad people out there. They’re bad people and they’re looking for us. They’re looking for us because they’re bad and they want to take you away from me. They’ll make sure we never ever see each other again, and you don’t want that. You don’t want that, do you, Keith?”

Frightened, Keith shook his head no. He felt his dad’s hand on his face shaking, and before he could say anything he was being shoved under the couch. He squirmed a bit at the sudden movement and the squeeze to get him under it and made an uncomfortable sound that had his dad pressing his hand into his mouth harder.

"Please, Keith, _please_. You gotta be quiet. You gotta be quiet just for a little bit, okay?” his dad said with pleading eyes, and Keith immediately stopped his whining and squirming. “Your dad’s gonna deal with the bad people but you just have to make sure they don’t see or hear you. No matter what they say, don’t let them trick you into talking or coming out. Do you understand Keith? Keep quiet. Or else.”

He pulled his hand away from Keith’s mouth and smiled when Keith replaced it with his own and nodded his head.

“That’s my boy.”

The thin blanket that he slept with at night was draped across the couch so that some of it was hanging off the edge, and suddenly it was dark. Keith heard his dad quickly walk away and the door slam, and he closed his eyes tightly, dug his nails into his cheek, and willed himself not to hear, not to think, not to _breathe_ until it was safe. Until he and his dad were safe.

 

* * *

 

The worst part about the being under the couch was the way his breathing quickened, every small sound he makes ricocheting off the small space until it was deafening. The most minuscule hitch of breath became a scream, a whimper he let slide despite his best efforts became a roar. ‘I’m going to die here,’ Keith thought, was sure of it, as his lungs expanded and deflated so furiously he was certain they'll burst.

He reminded himself, in the beginning, to stay calm, that panic wouldn't do him any good. It was a mantra in his head, ‘stay calm, stay calm, stay calm’, but even that had spiraled upward and outward, as though contributing to his own mass in this too-small space until he didn't fit any longer.

He squirmed and did his best to keep from hyperventilating because he couldn’t be loud he couldn’t they’d find him but it had been so long and his dad hadn’t come back yet what if something happened to him this time what if the bad people found him what if they’were waiting outside right now waiting for Keith to come out and look for his dad why is it so hot and dark and small why is he so _scared_ why couldn’t he _breathe-_

The sheet is suddenly pulled off of the couch and he’s met with blinding light that makes him squint and a rush of air that make his lungs painfully contract. His dad stares at him with love and relief as Keith’s eyes struggle to adjust from being in the dark for so long. 

''They’re gone, Keith,” he says softly, offering him a hand, but Keith doesn’t hear him, already scrambling out from under the couch, his panicked movements making it hard for his feet to find purchase as he slipped. His arms wrapped around his dad tightly and he buried his face in his chest, still breathing heavily. His dad ran his fingers though his hair trying to calm him down, but Keith was still shaking because for some reason his dad’s hands on him felt just as enclosing as being under the couch.

 

* * *

 

Everything’s fine until the elevator shuts down. It jerks him and Lance as it suddenly stops and before he can say anything, the lights turn off.

He thinks he can hear Lance groan right next to him, but his heart is pounding too hard and he can feel the blood rushing to his ears, drowning everything out.

It’s dark.

And small.

_Here’s what we’re gonna do, son. I need you to hide under the couch here and be very very quiet. Quiet just like a mouse, okay? Do you understand?_

He realizes with sudden clarity that the sides of the elevator are narrowing, lowering, coming down and around him. A shudder of terror goes through his body and he struggles to not curl up and make himself as small as he can be, instead finding his hand making its way to press against his mouth. Unlike having a chill from a cold or a fever, he doesn’t stop.

He’s shaking, trembling so hard he can feel his insides shiver.

Keith remembers. He _remembers_.

His lungs. He remembers and takes a gasping breath, realizing he hasn’t been breathing. When his exhale comes out as a sob, he tilts his head back to try and open his airways but instead finds that the back of his head is only met with the back wall of the elevator. Keith remembers.

He wants to scream, but he knows that would be a mistake, it’ll echo and magnify indefinitely and give himself away. He’s so scared he’s making too much noise and that they’re gonna find him and he’s gonna be alone. When the lights turn back on _if they turn back on oh god oh god oh god_ Lance is going to be gone and he’s going to be alone and he’s going to be responsible for Lance’s disappearance because it’s his fault he can’t keep quiet and his best talent seems to be being a bad luck charm to everyone around him.

Keith remembers.

_He remembers his dad’s hands pushing him under, his frantic and quiet voice along with his pleading eyes begging and ordering him to listen._

_He remembers his dad’s footstep amplified by one of his ears being pressed to the wooden floor, heavy and quick and scary. He remembers digging his stubby, bitten nails into his skin because he needed something to ground himself, to let him know he was still there with his dad, that he wasn’t anywhere else._

_He remembers his chest heaving as he gasped for air and his dad pulling him out from under the couch but feeling confused and no relief because his hands were just as confining-_

“Keith. Keith, hey, it’s okay. It’s alright. You’re alright.”

Lance’s voice disrupts his jumbled and frantic thoughts and without thinking he reaches out and puts his hand to his mouth, pressing on it just like his dad did to him hoping Lance would get the point because he was being too loud and if Lance kept talking they’d _find them_.

Lance’s warm breath tickles the palm of his hand and Keith is disgusted at the sensation. It wasn’t his breath, not or husky or rumbly or laced with the smell of cigarettes.

“Keith, babe, calm down. You’re alright; it’s alright.”

He feels Lance’s hand softly touch his naked shoulder and he immediately flinches back because his hand isn’t rough enough, isn’t squeezing his shoulders hard enough, is too small, and he bites his lip to keep a whine from escaping his mouth because _please, Keith,_ please. _You gotta be quiet. You gotta be quiet just for a little bit, okay?_

He exhausts himself with his panic, or maybe he’s just not getting enough air to his brain, but either way, he starts to see stars and sways on his feet dizzily. Too weak and disoriented to shake it off, Lance’s hand returns to his shoulder and pushes him down to the floor where Keith curls up quietly. Don’t hear, don’t think, don’t breathe. Don’t hear, don’t think, don’t breathe. Don’t _hear_ , don’t _think_ , _don’t breathe_. He feels like tying his towel around his neck so his chest can stop wheezing so he can _shut the fuck up_.

Lance is doing his best to coax him out of his curled ball in the corner of the elevator, speaking softly, trying to get Keith to stop hyperventilating _(breathe in with me Keith, breathe in. just focus on my breathing and do your best to copy it, okay? c’mon babe it’s alright, you’re alright we’re both fine we’ll get out just breathe in. focus, Keith. it’s okay. Keith, Keith hey don’t pass out, stay with me Keith, come on. please, please don’t do this to me)_ , and tugging his ear when Keith finds himself drifting away, but Keith is stuck in hide and seek mode because he remembers what his dad told him he remembers. He remembers his dad suffocating him and telling him that no matter what they said, he couldn’t make himself seen or heard or else.

_Or else._

“Please, please, please, _shhhhhhhh_. Please be quiet, _please_.”

He whispers to himself over and over again, and passes out in Lance’s arms a couple minutes after, a string of slurred and mumbled words dripping from his mouth.

 

* * *

 

A couple of days after while they’re cuddling in Keith’s room, Lance asks him about what happened.

Keith is quiet for a while, nuzzling into Lance’s chest, but then offers, “bad experiences", and Lance says nothing, doesn’t know what he’s supposed to glean from that. Just presses his nose into the crease of Keith’s shoulder blade, and they drift off like that, soft touches lulling them into slumber. Keith is fast asleep, drooling lightly on Lance’s chest and looking adorable, but all Lance thinks about is Keith's panicked eyes and staggering breaths and how his hand against his mouth felt uncomfortably suffocating.

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](https://heiiths.tumblr.com/)


End file.
